"Well!" said Andrea,--"my servant's coat and my hat?"
"Ah," said Caderousse, "you would not like me to risk taking cold?"
"But what am I to do?"
"You? Oh, you are young while I am beginning to get old. Au revoir,
Benedetto;" and running into a court, he disappeared. "Alas," said
Andrea, sighing, "one cannot be completely happy in this world!"
Chapter 65. A Conjugal Scene.
At the Place Louis XV. the three young people separated--that is to
say, Morrel went to the Boulevards, Chateau-Renaud to the Pont de
la Revolution, and Debray to the Quai. Most probably Morrel and
Chateau-Renaud returned to their "domestic hearths," as they say in the
gallery of the Chamber in well-turned speeches, and in the theatre of
the Rue Richelieu in well-written pieces; but it was not the case with
Debray. When he reached the wicket of the Louvre, he turned to the left,
galloped across the Carrousel, passed through the Rue Saint-Roch, and,
issuing from the Rue de la Michodiere, he arrived at M. Danglars' door
just at the same time that Villefort's landau, after having deposited
him and his wife at the Faubourg St. Honore, stopped to leave the
baroness at her own house. Debray, with the air of a man familiar with
the house, entered first into the court, threw his bridle into the hands
of a footman, and returned to the door to receive Madame Danglars, to
whom he offered his arm, to conduct her to her apartments. The gate once
closed, and Debray and the baroness alone in the court, he asked,--"What
was the matter with you, Hermine? and why were you so affected at that
story, or rather fable, which the count related?"
"Because I have been in such shocking spirits all the evening, my
friend," said the baroness.
"No, Hermine," replied Debray; "you cannot make me believe that; on the
contrary, you were in excellent spirits when you arrived at the count's.
M. Danglars was disagreeable, certainly, but I know how much you care
for his ill-humor. Some one has vexed you; I will allow no one to annoy
you."
"You are deceived, Lucien, I assure you," replied Madame Danglars; "and
what I have told you is really the case, added to the ill-humor you
remarked, but which I did not think it worth while to allude to." It
was evident that Madame Danglars was suffering from that nervous
irritability which women frequently cannot account for even to
themselves; or that, as Debray had guessed, she had experienced some
secret agitation that she would not acknowledge to any one. Being a
man who knew that the former of these symptoms was one of the inherent
penalties of womanhood, he did not then press his inquiries, but waited
for a more appropriate opportunity when he should again interrogate
her, or receive an avowal proprio motu. At the door of her apartment the
baroness met Mademoiselle Cornelie, her confidential maid. "What is my
daughter doing?" asked Madame Danglars.
"She practiced all the evening, and then went to bed," replied
Mademoiselle Cornelie.
"Yet I think I hear her piano."
"It is Mademoiselle Louise d'Armilly, who is playing while Mademoiselle
Danglars is in bed."
"Well," said Madame Danglars, "come and undress me." They entered
the bedroom. Debray stretched himself upon a large couch, and Madame
Danglars passed into her dressing-room with Mademoiselle Cornelie. "My
dear M. Lucien," said Madame Danglars through the door, "you are always
complaining that Eugenie will not address a word to you."
"Madame," said Lucien, playing with a little dog, who, recognizing him
as a friend of the house, expected to be caressed, "I am not the only
one who makes similar complaints, I think I heard Morcerf say that he
could not extract a word from his betrothed."
"True," said Madame Danglars; "yet I think this will all pass off, and
that you will one day see her enter your study."
"My study?"
"At least that of the minister."
"Why so!"
"To ask for an engagement at the Opera. Really, I never saw such an
infatuation for music; it is quite ridiculous for a young lady of
fashion." Debray smiled. "Well," said he, "let her come, with your
consent and that of the baron, and we will try and give her an
engagement, though we are very poor to pay such talent as hers."
"Go, Cornelie," said Madame Danglars, "I do not require you any longer."
Cornelie obeyed, and the next minute Madame Danglars left her room in
a charming loose dress, and came and sat down close to Debray. Then she
began thoughtfully to caress the little spaniel. Lucien looked at her
for a moment in silence. "Come, Hermine," he said, after a short time,
"answer candidly,--something vexes you--is it not so?"
"Nothing," answered the baroness.
And yet, as she could scarcely breathe, she rose and went towards
a looking-glass. "I am frightful to-night," she said. Debray rose,
smiling, and was about to contradict the baroness upon this latter
point, when the door opened suddenly. M. Danglars appeared; Debray
reseated himself. At the noise of the door Madame Danglars turned round,
and looked upon her husband with an astonishment she took no trouble
to conceal. "Good-evening, madame," said the banker; "good-evening, M.
Debray."
Probably the baroness thought this unexpected visit signified a desire
to make up for the sharp words he had uttered during the day. Assuming
a dignified air, she turned round to Debray, without answering her
husband. "Read me something, M. Debray," she said. Debray, who was
slightly disturbed at this visit, recovered himself when he saw the
calmness of the baroness, and took up a book marked by a mother-of-pearl
knife inlaid with gold. "Excuse me," said the banker, "but you will
tire yourself, baroness, by such late hours, and M. Debray lives some
distance from here."
Debray was petrified, not only to hear Danglars speak so calmly and
politely, but because it was apparent that beneath outward politeness
there really lurked a determined spirit of opposition to anything his
wife might wish to do. The baroness was also surprised, and showed her
astonishment by a look which would doubtless have had some effect upon
her husband if he had not been intently occupied with the paper, where
he was looking to see the closing stock quotations. The result was, that
the proud look entirely failed of its purpose.
"M. Lucien," said the baroness, "I assure you I have no desire to sleep,
and that I have a thousand things to tell you this evening, which you
must listen to, even though you slept while hearing me."
"I am at your service, madame," replied Lucien coldly.
"My dear M. Debray," said the banker, "do not kill yourself to-night
listening to the follies of Madame Danglars, for you can hear them as
well to-morrow; but I claim to-night and will devote it, if you will
allow me, to talk over some serious matters with my wife." This time
the blow was so well aimed, and hit so directly, that Lucien and the
baroness were staggered, and they interrogated each other with their
eyes, as if to seek help against this aggression, but the irresistible
will of the master of the house prevailed, and the husband was
victorious.
"Do not think I wish to turn you out, my dear Debray," continued
Danglars; "oh, no, not at all. An unexpected occurrence forces me to ask
my wife to have a little conversation with me; it is so rarely I make
such a request, I am sure you cannot grudge it to me." Debray muttered
something, bowed and went out, knocking himself against the edge of the
door, like Nathan in "Athalie."
"It is extraordinary," he said, when the door was closed behind him,
"how easily these husbands, whom we ridicule, gain an advantage over
us."
Lucien having left, Danglars took his place on the sofa, closed the open
book, and placing himself in a dreadfully dictatorial attitude, he began
playing with the dog; but the animal, not liking him as well as Debray,
and attempting to bite him, Danglars seized him by the skin of his neck
and threw him upon a couch on the other side of the room. The animal
uttered a cry during the transit, but, arrived at its destination, it
crouched behind the cushions, and stupefied at such unusual treatment
remained silent and motionless. "Do you know, sir," asked the baroness,
"that you are improving? Generally you are only rude, but to-night you
are brutal."
"It is because I am in a worse humor than usual," replied Danglars.
Hermine looked at the banker with supreme disdain. These glances
frequently exasperated the pride of Danglars, but this evening he took
no notice of them.
"And what have I to do with your ill-humor?" said the baroness,
irritated at the impassibility of her husband; "do these things concern
me? Keep your ill-humor at home in your money boxes, or, since you have
clerks whom you pay, vent it upon them."
"Not so," replied Danglars; "your advice is wrong, so I shall not follow
it. My money boxes are my Pactolus, as, I think, M. Demoustier says, and
I will not retard its course, or disturb its calm. My clerks are honest
men, who earn my fortune, whom I pay much below their deserts, if I may
value them according to what they bring in; therefore I shall not get
into a passion with them; those with whom I will be in a passion are
those who eat my dinners, mount my horses, and exhaust my fortune."
"And pray who are the persons who exhaust your fortune? Explain yourself
more clearly, I beg, sir."
"Oh, make yourself easy!--I am not speaking riddles, and you will soon
know what I mean. The people who exhaust my fortune are those who draw
out 700,000 francs in the course of an hour."
"I do not understand you, sir," said the baroness, trying to disguise
the agitation of her voice and the flush of her face. "You understand me
perfectly, on the contrary," said Danglars: "but, if you will persist,
I will tell you that I have just lost 700,000 francs upon the Spanish
loan."
"And pray," asked the baroness, "am I responsible for this loss?"
"Why not?"
"Is it my fault you have lost 700,000 francs?"
"Certainly it is not mine."
"Once for all, sir," replied the baroness sharply, "I tell you I will
not hear cash named; it is a style of language I never heard in the
house of my parents or in that of my first husband."
"Oh, I can well believe that, for neither of them was worth a penny."
"The better reason for my not being conversant with the slang of the
bank, which is here dinning in my ears from morning to night; that noise
of jingling crowns, which are constantly being counted and re-counted,
is odious to me. I only know one thing I dislike more, which is the
sound of your voice."
"Really?" said Danglars. "Well, this surprises me, for I thought you
took the liveliest interest in all my affairs!"
"I? What could put such an idea into your head?"
"Yourself."
"Ah?--what next?"
"Most assuredly."
"I should like to know upon what occasion?"
"Oh, mon Dieu, that is very easily done. Last February you were the
first who told me of the Haitian funds. You had dreamed that a ship had
entered the harbor at Havre, that this ship brought news that a
payment we had looked upon as lost was going to be made. I know how
clear-sighted your dreams are; I therefore purchased immediately as many
shares as I could of the Haitian debt, and I gained 400,000 francs by
it, of which 100,000 have been honestly paid to you. You spent it as you
pleased; that was your business. In March there was a question about a
grant to a railway. Three companies presented themselves, each offering
equal securities. You told me that your instinct,--and although you
pretend to know nothing about speculations, I think on the contrary,
that your comprehension is very clear upon certain affairs,--well, you
told me that your instinct led you to believe the grant would be given
to the company called the Southern. I bought two thirds of the shares
of that company; as you had foreseen, the shares trebled in value, and
I picked up a million, from which 250,000 francs were paid to you for
pin-money. How have you spent this 250,000 francs?--it is no business of
mine."
"When are you coming to the point?" cried the baroness, shivering with
anger and impatience.
"Patience, madame, I am coming to it."
"That's fortunate."
"In April you went to dine at the minister's. You heard a private
conversation respecting Spanish affairs--on the expulsion of Don Carlos.
I bought some Spanish shares. The expulsion took place and I pocketed
600,000 francs the day Charles V. repassed the Bidassoa. Of these
600,000 francs you took 50,000 crowns. They were yours, you disposed of
them according to your fancy, and I asked no questions; but it is not
the less true that you have this year received 500,000 livres."
"Well, sir, and what then?"
"Ah, yes, it was just after this that you spoiled everything."
"Really, your manner of speaking"--
"It expresses my meaning, and that is all I want. Well, three days after
that you talked politics with M. Debray, and you fancied from his words
that Don Carlos had returned to Spain. Well, I sold my shares, the news
got out, and I no longer sold--I gave them away, next day I find the
news was false, and by this false report I have lost 700,000. francs."
"Well?"
"Well, since I gave you a fourth of my gains, I think you owe me a
